[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pgdQf34SYSo]
I swear, I love him.  *Note, the eyes (back in Edmund Spenser's days) have been known as "lamping" which L11 tries for cuz of rhyming.



(sonnet #MMMMMMCCXLVIII)


Cold blue peers thinly oer the rippling sense
Of greener carpets laid out for thet pale
Eye's scrut'ny ist?  Grey, fluffy cloudbanks scale
Hours down in more uncertain light as hence
Ah, golden shafts look fragile whiles they fence
Long naked trees with thoughts of warmth's detail,
Winds trying to whisper, and the firs exhale
In hoarser notes as wont, me silent thence.
Cuz Andrew does not put his finger fer
Aught on my lips, no.  Yet he does 'non too.
Are my lamps shining in betrayl as twere?
I swear, he humbles me without a clue
Or touch, and reaches for my heart, to stir
What's been long in the tomb, likeas we knew.

06Apr17a

Once upon a time we had the hymnal propped by the kitchen sink so's I could learn; years later Mum would sing along with me, and now...I like never but once in a blue moon dare to sing aloud, for missing her to tears.



(sonnet #MMMMMMCCXLVII)


What's happened to--me?  Rainy hours detail
Thet eye with silver's touch while green lawns fence
The minutes fog obscures by vague suspense
With softest carpets rolled out to avail,
And I'm not erm, my own in sheer betrayl;
Erst naked trees lost to mists' whitish sense
Of yonder, I could shiver, and do hence,
Cuz in a blink I'm his upon that scale.
One comment like my wont five days ere, poor
As what?  now he distracts aught hours 'til through
Suggestion I am giggling, sober, tour
His deepest sorrows, and maunt say he'd woo?!
Of course, I'm better searching violets, fer
All that.  Let purple wink low, saying we knew.

05Apr17b

I think it was pop....yes, the Hinoi Team, among others.  [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9i3VCVHzTAY]



(sonnet #MMMMMMCCXLI)  

Rain.  Streetlights hemmed by ghostly mists' detail
Watch cars line up to scatter in a sense
Upon their ways, and it is late, for hence
We do not listen to beat music's scale
Of "happy" thet I'd smile for ere, the pale
Eye of these sent'nels blacker night'd fringe thence
Our silent what? as he talks of defense
In sheer forgetting, like I knew'd avail.
None knew quite why my cellphone's covrage poor,
And I suppose in retrospect, laughed to
Themselves for how I'd sit there so demure
Without my ride, the libry's bench wet too,
Me wrestling with that slim device sans cure.
I oiled my boots for sloshing puddles' crew.

03Apr17a

Some of my friends swear they are, but I'm not.



(sonnet #MMMMMMCCXL)


Rain.  Just a whisper as how twilight thence
Steals thinly 'cross the ist more fragile scale
Of wet?  I caught that note in sweet all hail
To say "it can't be--!" puddles' ghostly sense
Now winking lightly from the blacktop, whence
That subtler voice of traffic hissing, pale
In deeper shadows' lonely wake, t'avail
Was't true, and phone recharging, what from hence?
I'm sleepy.  Blackened silhouettes hulk fer
Good measure in the darkness, like a crew
Upon some ghastly mission as it were,
But I'm too tired for aught now, lying down to
Effect right in this stuffed chair.  Call it poor,
And one espresso long gone, kiss me too?

02Apr17c

Or is it?



(sonnet #MMMMMMCCXXXIX)


Yes, anime as from a distance' frail
Note comes to hail me on my own phone hence--
Which brother's taste cavorting gaily thence
Like to a happy air I cherish? pale
As liking by mere halves what plays for bail
Now in the background.  Lo, and for intents
Sis can make calls, whilst oh! don't ask me whence,
But add the p'lice erm, scanner too, to scale.
If only oh, the LORD would e'er and fer
All time take care of little me.  I do
Not know how to whatever, though tis poor,
Ye say, to fess't?  My brother's old phone too,
They set it up for me, and how we tour
Their favrite stuff thereon.  Fun like few knew.

02Apr17b

Layered.  Say you didn't know these were complex.



(sonnet #MMMMMMCCXXXVII)


Blue skies peer thinly twixt the whiter tale
Of clouds whose stringy webs mask what, from hence?
The warming golden light half bleak, a sense
I maunt put down stalks through all that'd avail.
Ne shadows nor a flirting breath t'exhale
By even halves and I am jumpy, whence
What daffodils might nod can own intents
While folk tell April Fools jokes like we've bail.
Did I complain oer...jonquils' yellow tour
Of frilly heads and purple hy'cinth too?
Yes.  I said even ******* laundry's...poor,
Sith Mum is buried.  Taen from me now, who
Shall pity?  Sparrows e'en too distant fer
Aught smiles, I wonder if a man'd now woo.

01Apr17c

See my spiral for how she rendered it*  



(sonnet #MMMMMMCCXXXVI)


Ya.  Lean upon the porch rail as night's dense
Black--does it twinkle with ah, stars? nor hail
The mirk none pass through, just my brother.  Pale
As Au Revoir where all else sleep from hence,
Lo, how--what ist?  Hark!  For the train calls thence,
Its whistle breaking this cold silence' tale,
And think now, of how I'll lose all ist? frail
Against the metal lacework, sans defense.
Turn back indoors to clean the mess we'd stir
In babysitting.  Wooden tracks a crew
Of Brio traincars clattered oer in tour
Half like what deeply rumbles past, aye to
A fault, my brother saying "a real train--" Were
I numb too long oer Mum?  Or swear I knew?

01Apr17b